


Heir Apparent

by cafeanna



Category: Scarlet Heart: Ryeo - Fandom
Genre: F/M, I'm Locked Out of My FF.net Account, Mentions of miscarriage, Not A Happy Ending, OC - children - Freeform, Scartlet Heart: Ryeo AU, What could have happened, Yeon Hwa-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 04:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8830708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafeanna/pseuds/cafeanna
Summary: Yeon Hwa-centric. She became queen, wife of the king, mother of his children, but she is not the only one, and by far not the only one in his heart.





	

**Author's Note:**

> au—Yeon Hwa-centric. She became queen, wife of the king, mother of his children, but she is not the only one, and by far not the only one in his heart. 
> 
>  
> 
> HELLO. I’m writing this with limited knowledge of Korean monarchy (Goryeo, specifically), and for that I apologize, but if I make a mistake, please do point it out and I will take steps to correct it. Also, I am writing under the notion that ‘queen’ is a title given to a high-ranking wife, but ‘empress’ is the ultimate.

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She marries the Emperor before the weather turns slow and cold.

The ceremony is grand and beautiful and everything she ever imagined. When she pledged herself to her Fourth Brother, she means every word.

When he takes her to bed he is gentle, not like she expected, but he does not kiss her. When they are done, he sits up from their marriage bed and looks down at her, naked and luminous under the moonlight. He looks contemplative, almost serene. She thinks, for a moment, that they might work together over the coming years, grow to care for one another—

“I will marry Hae Soo. This is the last time we will share a bed.”

He gathers his clothes and leaves, and despite tradition and advisory and orders—he stays away. Yeon Hwa isn’t the praying kind, but when she passes the prayer tower the next day she prays hard for potency, for fertility, for success. But, not for forgiveness, she doesn’t need that.

.

.

On the last warm day of autumn, she watches Lady Soo walk through the palace in royal blues and golds. Her hair pinned high and decorated with glowing jewels and precious strings of pearls. The court ladies take charge in making it a very grand event for their favorite lady.

The ceremony is much smaller than Yeon Hwa’s, but the lack of grandeur is made up for in the Emperor’s happiness and gifts. The princes shower Hae Soo with gifts ranging from foreign incenses to the finest silks. Even the nobility indulge in the Emperor’s whims, laying gifts and blessings at the feet of a woman who had nearly destroyed her.

Wook sends best wishes to the couple, but keeps his distance. He tells her later that when So learned of his previous affair with the new queen, that he had ordered him to stay away. Wook does not rebel to this rule; he stays in his house with his wife and young children.

He remains broken, like the jade bracelet he had given Soo all those years ago.

Yeon Hwa does not attend the ceremony, but she notes—with some distress—that the Emperor does not leave Lady Soo’s rooms after the deed is done. He visits the next night too, and every night after. And although she knows that Lady Soo is not in the game, not entirely, she is still winning.

Yeon Hwa prays harder.

.

.

It may not tie in directly with tradition, but Yeon Hwa knows, just _knows,_ that if Lady Soo has a son before her then that child will be named the Crown Prince, then she would be Empress.

The Gwangjong had been holding off on the coronation title, but Yeon Hwa knows the only way to win is to have a son before Lady Soo. And her odds are not looking terribly good.

From her window she watches the Emperor and Lady Soo, having a private moment in the garden. Yeon Hwa feels a tell-tale sting of irony for doing the very thing she chastised Hae Soo for years ago.

They are so openly affectionate towards each other, it’s almost sickening. She is considering going down there and breaking up the display when the Emperor’s hand slips into Hae Soo’s coat and spreads across her abdomen, his face alight.

It starts to snow.

.

.

Weeks later, a hush falls over the palace like a foreboding; silence so thick and deep that Yeon Hwa felt her ears would pop from the sheer lack of sound. The snow packs tight outside and the icy layer over crunches, but the sound compacts itself, rolling the silence out from the morning and well into the afternoon.

Then, when the silence breaks, it is shattered by a piercing scream of a lady in pain.

Yeon Hwa runs from her garden, cold biting at her skin and fur cloak half-thrown over her shoulders as she runs through the connecting corridors through the noise, the crowd, and the chaos. There is blood trailing down the west hallway—the Emperor’s wing.

Her mind runs wild with scenarios—an assassination? a murder?

She comes to a halt at the edge of the room, watching in mute horror as Thirteenth Brother kneels beside Hae Soo, cradling her in his arms. Her face is white and sheened with sweat; she’s shaking like a newborn, whimpering, hot tears roll down her cheeks.

Baek Ah is crying too, but through his tears and bloodstained hands, he repeats the same mantra over and over, “the emperor, the emperor, someone tell the emperor.”

Servants scatter and Yeon Hwa stares on as So appears, his eyes meeting hers for only the barest second, before they land on Hae Soo.

Yeon Hwa feels a lump forming in her throat at the sight: So in dressed in the finest of royalty, forgetting etiquette, and dignity, and court obligations, as he throws himself to the ground beside his peasant wife, kneeling in all that blood and crying out to her. “Soo-yah? _Soo-yah_!” His thumb brushes her cheek, leaving a bright crimson stain across her pale complexion.

The physicians are called, a mumble among the servants, some think she may die.

Yeon Hwa rushes from the corridor to the outdoors and vomits, the scent of blood still thick in her nose. She holds her stomach while she heaves, encouraging herself to stay calm, to calm down, to calm down. Her ladies are behind her, patting her back and gathering up her hair, but Yeon Hwa doesn’t pay attention to them.

She spots the Queen Mother across the yard, older and grayer, but still smiling that viper grin with her lovely scarlet mouth. Yeon Hwa feels sick again.

.

.

That day, Lady Hae lost a child.

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.

“I know it was you that poisoned Hae Soo.” His voice is just this sliver of a whisper, too quiet and too horrified at its own realization. She traces the seam of her lips with the tip of her tongue, sealing them shut. It doesn’t matter what she says, he has already made up his mind.

Her smile is pretty, soft and cordial as if she were speaking to another noble, not her husband, not her king. She says, “And what will you do about it, if it was me? You cannot lose my support. You cannot risk it.”

His eyes are older than they should be, battle-hardened, like his hands. He had killed men with those hands. If rumors were true, then he killed the Jeongjong with those very hands. She shivers.

“I could turn you in for treason. Have you killed—”

“I’m pregnant.” She says, too quick, too cool. “With our child. Our son.”

.

.

News travels fast and Lady Hae withdrawals herself from the palace to stay in her old room at the Damiwon. At the King’s command, the servants turn a blind eye, but the whisper and rumor is insured.

Yeon Hwa sees her sometimes, in the gardens, collecting prayer stones, soaking in a fragment bath. The Emperor visits her often and they have long, low chats in her room. They take walks together—without guards—and visit a growing prayer stone pile together.

Yeon Hwa disapproves.

“She lost a royal son,” her mother says grimly when they sit down for tea. “It’s only natural that the court pay respects. She is a royal consort.”

“But, I am his wife and queen.” Yeon Hwa smiles and her hands fall to her abdomen. “And I will have a son.”

.

.

Queen Mother is ill when she sees her next.

Her clan, powerful brothers and sisters, pay respects to her and offer final prayers, but none wish to further vex the new Emperor, who despite his reckless childhood, has shown interest in sharing bonds with them. So has done the unthinkable, going over his mother’s head and gambling their loyalty against his.

And he won.

In a dying battle, all Yeon Hwa can do is watch.

“That throne belongs to my son, my Jung-ah.” Queen Mother says helplessly, or at least, Yeon Hwa imagines she is quite helpless.

It is odd for her, seeing the woman she once feared and hid from as a child, the woman who caused her such pain, in such a lowly state; evaporating into nothing, skin sinking against bone, mind addled by high fever.

She can’t name the emotion joy, quite yet.

Yeon Hwa dabbles a rose-scented towel across her mother-in-law’s brow. “The throne does belong to your son, _si-eomoni_ ,” she says this with special reverence, “you’re second-eldest, Wang So-ah has the throne now.”

“Do not call me that.” The Queen Mother bats at her.

Yeon Hwa catches her wrist and pushes it under the heavy blanket with the other hand.

“Careful, careful,” She continues with faux sweetness, “you murdered two royal children in your life already. You do not want to harm another.” She tusks and watches the Queen Mother’s fever glassy eyes settle on her. She can see the sand settling in the queen’s mind, counting her sins—her father’s concubine and Hae Soo’s child.

Yeon Hwa is not partial to the irony.

“They thought it was me, but I know you did it.”

“You are pregnant.” The Queen Mother says after a beat. “You let that _animal_ touch you? My, you certainly have lowered your standards.”

“I will have a son and he will rule Goryeo for many years. You should be proud,” Yeon Hwa says, sitting back to rest her hands on her growing belly. “A child of Yoo and Hwangbo blood will be quite powerful, enough to pull this country together.”

“Not so fast.” Her voice is soft and whispery, like a gust of chilly air in the winter. It makes the hair on Yeon Hwa’s arms stand up. “No guarantee that you have a son. And he still has that girl . . . she can still have deliver. That poison was meant to kill her and her child, but she lives. Like a cockroach.” Her eyes drift closed and she exhales as if falling into sleep. “You will be fighting her all your life . . .”

The Queen Mother trails off.

“Unless I am strong enough to do away with her on my own, you mean.” Yeon Hwa says, but the Queen Mother has fallen asleep. She sits back for a moment, listening to her uneven breathing and ponders for a moment.

She promised Hae Soo co-existence, that she would accept her as the Emperor’s woman. But when the Emperor married her, things had gotten complicated, the game board had changed, Hae Soo would grow powerful with a royal baby in her womb.

But she promised.

And killing her now would only cause further discourse.

.

.

They call her the Daemok, Queen of Goryeo. The kingdom her father built and the kingdom her husband now rules. She has achieved the unimaginable, she married the Emperor, bore him a son, and became owner of Goreyo through marriage—no one to hold her down, no man more powerful.

She spends her years building a strong foundation for her son; she will teach him politics and arithmetic, archery and swordsmanship. Her husband adores the prince, the Crown Prince, and takes him to meetings and dinners and construction sights. The future of Goryeo.

Then, a year since their son’s birth, a healthy cry rings through the palace, sounded off by fireworks and cheering from servants and nobles alike.

A royal baby had been born—a son.                                                                          

.

.

Hae Soo has two children that night, twins, a boy and a girl.

The twins are a symbol to the astronomers and the nobles, great power and blessings will surely follow them. But to Soo and So the babies are a symbol, a condolence, an apology—a dead son, a live son. A way to restart their lives together.

Hae Soo, the woman he loves and she tolerates, finally forgives and loves him again. Yeon Hwa watches as slowly, all affection from the king wanes from her and refocuses on Hae Soo and their ugly pink, scrunch-faced babies.

.

.

Years pass and Yeon Hwa works to make this kingdom rich and safe and vast. A place her son would become Emperor, make her Queen Mother, and then she could be comfortable and rest with some peace of mind.

She would croon over her grandchildren—many of them—pinch their pudgy cheeks and dot on them with candy and toys. She would luxuriate and live a hundred years like her mother. She would survive through her future generations, powerful sons and cunning daughters, all bearing her likeness.

But, Hae Soo has a strong and healthy son and a daughter, with dark hair and glowing little faces, both of whom her husband adores and with each visit he cannot seem to stop rewarding Hae Soo with more land, more gifts, more jewels, and more of him.

Yeon Hwa doesn’t worry. Hae Soo may have a son, but she has the Crown Prince.

.

.

Hae Soo’s hair is long and lacquered like wet leaves in the autumn; her face a glowing moon with perfect makeup and pink lips. Even after all these years she looks as lovely as she did that day the Emperor named her his wife— _third wife,_ she reminds herself, _third wife._

But, Hae Soo has grown delicate in these last years and although she, and the Emperor, cares very much for her health, she is still dissolving slowly, like honey into tea. She is not to be bothered either, too much excitement may harm her.

Still Yeon Hwa is feeling particularly vindictive this day, and although she knows better than to pick petty fights—she’s better than that—Yeon Hwa just wants to snap her pretty teeth at the Emperor’s kept woman and let her venom soak in.

“Lady Hae,” she calls and makes her way across the garden towards her, her ladies trailing after like a flock of periwinkle and blue. Once spotting her, Lady Hae pauses and bows to her, her ladies doing so in unison. They are maids that were loyal to her in the Damiwon; women who will take to hot coals rather than be bribed to spy on their Lady.

Yeon Hwa knows this personally.

Hae Soo has taken measures to always having her children around her, followed by a rotating team of nannies and capable ladies. Her little son, Prince Myeong Hui, walks beside her, gripping her hand, while his twin, Princess Soo Yeon, sits on her mother’s hip, chewing on a doll’s head.

 _She’s like a peasant woman with them hanging on her like that._ Yeon Hwa sneers and watches as Hae Soo reluctantly passes her daughter off to her maid and lowers herself into a curtsey.

“Greetings Empress Yeon Hwa, how are you this day?” She smiles, returning her hand to her son’s delicate grasp and squeezing his fingers reassuringly. Yeon Hwa stares down at the little prince, eyes burning into his gentle ones.

“I have a confession to make about your son.” Yeon Hwa says, smiling. “Your very first son.”

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The doors to her chambers burst open later that night with a loud bang. One of her ladies, the one positioned outside the door, tumbles into the room, tripping over her skirt as she collides to the floor. The violence is not her husband’s doing, but rather the own girl’s fear. She rights herself into a bow and announces the Emperor just as he appears like a vengeful spirit, with Ji Mong and his advisors close behind.

“Yeon Hwa I warned you against harassing Queen Hae.” He is shaking, positively livid, the beads of his headdress quiver as he speaks.

Yeon Hwa stands in her nightgown, hair undone and face clean of makeup, feeling more naked than the times she had when her husband had shared her bed all those years ago. True to his oath, he has not returned to her rooms since that night—despite Hae Soo’s rejection and the years between them. He waited and fathered three children by her.

She feels the steady growth of rage next. The thought of Hae Soo going to the Emperor and complaining of her, just like a child! And here she was Empress of Goryeo, and being scolded! She would not stand for this.

“Whatever she told you, the disagreement was between me and her, Your Majesty.” She says, yielding only calm, cool composure. His brows knit. “I did nothing to Queen Hae; I merely wanted to chat with her. There were many witnesses; you may ask my ladies—”

“I saw you with my own two eyes, so do not lie to me, Yeon Hwa.”

That hits her like a cold slap to the face.

“You left me no choice.” She whispers.

“I told you to stay away from her.”

Yeon Hwa screams, “She is taking away from my son. _My son._ Your first born, how could you do this to him!?”

“My first born son is dead.” The Emperor says slowly. “He died before he could even take his first breath; leave his mother’s body to be in my arms. You will do well to remember that. His blood, as well as his mother’s, is on your hands.”

Yeon Hwa feels the mounting tension in the room, the cold stares from the advisors, her brother included. Wook’s eyes are dark and hungry. Yeon Hwa weighs her options. “And you will do well to remember who _gave_ you the throne.”

“Hae Soo did by being there that day. I would have fought down battlements and nations for her. I will make her life as simple as possible and if you do anything to disrupt that Yeon Hwa, I will make life very uncomfortable for you.”

“I have done—”

“You poisoned the king’s wife, stolen an heir from him,” Wook says slowly, and he looks at her, after years of isolation, years of rejection from Mother, years of fighting his way back into the palace; her brother smiles at her, and it is her undoing.

Her eyes flicker to her husband, but for once, Wang So looks content to let Wook speak.

“That is treason.”

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On the ninth year of Emperor Gwangjong’s reign, he has his wife, Empress Daemok, removed from the palace under the guise of bad health and she is taken to a mountain side house, filled with servants loyal only to him and far, far away from her supporters.

She is told by her mother that it is a blessing that Queen Hae took pity on her, and pleads with the Emperor to lighten her sentence to exile. Not death.

Yeon Hwa still feels the noose around her neck.

.

.

She sees her son sometimes; he grows into a fine young man. Her visits with him are supervised by Thirteenth Prince, who took up basic care of her child when he married that Baekje princess, Woo Hee.

Rumors had caused quite a stir, and when Woo Hee announced her identity, the aftershocks of which forced Baek Ah to take a step back from politics. In the end, the people of Baekje had settled when their princess married for love and relief efforts began to conjoin the two countries.

“My brother Myeong Hui-ah called me ‘hyung-nim’ yesterday, but it seems odd to me.” Jun says sweetly, eight-years-old and still as gentle as a rabbit. Yeon Hwa worries for that, but she can see the callous on his tiny hands and knows work will harden him. “Soo Yeon-ah says that it’s normal because I am their older brother.”

“That’s right, my love. What have you been reading lately?” She asks when Baek Ah regards her with a careful eye. She keeps her voice soft and sweet, inquiring from her son gentle and coaxing questions, but his answers are guarded.

They must tell him nasty things about her.

“Mother?” She hums, soaking in the feeling of having her son in her arms again. “Uncle’s wife told me yesterday that I may call her ‘mother’ if I wish. But I told her I was not sure because . . . you’re my mother. Even if I don’t see you often.”

Yeon Hwa feels a sinking cold slide into her belly and her gaze snaps to Baek Ah who looks neither guilty nor pleased by her son’s confession, but it is the blankness of his face that tells her that it is not a child’s tale. Yeon Hwa fumes. “What do you think?”

“I think,” She runs a soothing hand over her son’s shoulder and smiles. “If that Later Baekje wrench tells you anything like that again, you may spit in her eye.”

“That’s enough, Yeon Hwa!” Baek Ah snaps making Jun jump. “Wang Jun, go back to the house, I need to speak with your Mother in private.” Her son does not put up a fight, but cambers off of her lap and darts towards the house.

Yeon Hwa stands, not sure if she wants to go after him or smack Baek Ah, or both.

She waits until he’s a good distance away, with the guards near the outer railing of the garden, before she speaks.

“Do not speak to my son that way, Baek Ah. He is the Crown Prince.” The Thirteenth Prince continues to glare at her, teeth grit and silent. “And do not allow that wife of yours to tell him such things. I am his mother and I always will be.

“Even so, I will not allow you to speak about my wife that way. Do you understand?”

Yeon Hwa ignores him. “I want to see him without your supervising. Tell His Majesty.”

“You are under no condition to make demands.”

“And why not? I am still Empress. And I am a mother; I have a right to my son. He needs to be around his parents.”

“I can assure you, His Highness loves his children. _All_ of his children, very much.”

“He’s being raised by that woman.” Yeon Hwa says. She feels her heart growing heavy at the thought. Her son, her precious golden son, poisoned against her. “That is too much to bear. As his mother, I should be with him. I should be the one teaching him.”

“I can arrange for you to see him more often, Your Highness, but I cannot approve of you seeing him without a chaperone.”

“And why not?”

“Your crimes against Empress Hae—”

“Empress.” Yeon Hwa feels like the air has been deflated from her lungs. That single burning word. _Empress,_ she nearly chokes. Lady Hae had been made a queen when she bore that son of hers, but Empress is Yeon Hwa’s title, her rite of first wife and bearing the firstborn son. “His Highness . . . he has made her his Empress? So, the rumors? It’s all true?”

Baek Ah bows to her. “The Emperor never named you Empress, he only made you queen by proxy. He has made Lady Hae his Empress, her son, Crown Prince, and her daughter, Crown Princess. The coronation happened some weeks ago, Empress Hae has been—”

“Do _not_ acknowledge her as your Empress. I am the Empress.” Yeon Hwa is shaking, fist clenched as if she were about to hit. “And that _bastard_ is not the Crown Prince. My son is the Crown Prince. _My_ son Wang Jun. He is of Hwangbo blood, the elders—”

“Queen Daemok,” Her brother appears like an apparition. “Thirteenth Brother, you must take your leave now. The Emperor wants Prince Jun to join them for Empress Hae’s birthday party.”

Baek Ah casts an unsteady glance between the two of them, before walking off.

Yeon Hwa glares at her brother as he faces her. He looks old, but his smile is older, carefree and guileless. “Yeon Hwa.”

“Wook,” she regards. “How does it feel playing messenger?”

“Almost as good as regaining mother’s love before her death.” Wook says. “I did not see you at the ceremony, you were allowed to come. Empress Hae may be many things, but she is not cruel. She let Jung into the palace to see the Queen Mother before she passed.”

“She is not your Empress.” Yeon Hwa says.

“Not _mine_ in the since I intended, yes, but still mine.” Wook’s smile fades some. “I did not come to patronize you, Yeon Hwa. I have news for you. Empress Hae, although she rises in power, her health is failing her more and more each day. The Emperor is searching for new physician’s to care for her, but we all know it is a matter of time.”

Yeon Hwa stares at him, warmth growing inside of her. “How long?”

“It is hard to tell. One said she would not make it past thirty. Another said she has five more years.”

“Find out for certain.” Yeon Hwa says, mind racing. “And see what you can do to gain custody of Jun. I am a sitting duck as long as I am here and I’m going crazy being locked up all day. The Emperor should know better than to throw my son away.”

“They have not thrown Wang Jun away. He has the blood of the Hwangbo clan, the elders look to him as they looked to you and me. Empress Hae is too kind, though she can never forgive you, she does not hate your son and by extension of that love, she will not hurt you either.”

“I am not afraid of some peasant in royal masquerade.” Yeon Hwa says.

Wook bows his head for a moment, and then looks at her. “My first wife was her cousin. Lady Hae was far from a peasant when I married her and you know it. They saved us.”

Yeon Hwa glares at him.

“You know, Jun has been leaving the palace often. When I asked where he goes, I was told he has been staying in the Thirteenth Palace with Baek Ah’s children. I have observed that Baek Ah and his wife have offered to adopt him. I trust he told you?”

“Yes.”

“And what do you think?”

“Be adopted son of Silla noble and a Later Baekje Princess? Denounce me as his mother? _No_. I _refuse_.”

“He will be happy, Yeon Hwa, don’t you see? I have spoken to him about his title shift. I cannot get a reaction out of him. He doesn’t seem to care whether he is a Baekje’s son or a Crown Prince; he just wants to be happy.”

“That is because he does not understand the gravity of what he is giving up. What the Emperor is giving up. He is not only taking a title from my child—he is disrespecting a Hwangbo heir.”

“He is an heir of Wang, and you know that very well.”

“He is both, Wook-nim, do not vex me.”

“Yeon Hwa, you’re wasting away here, worrying yourself to an early grave.”

“I will not rest until my son is on that throne.” Yeon Hwa vows, eyes locking with her brother’s. “I am _patient._ I can wait.”

“I will report that back to His Highness then.”

“Very well then, tell him I will not approve of my son being adopted. He may distance himself from me, but he cannot distance himself from his true heir.” Yeon Hwa folds her hands when she seats herself back on the low bench. “Tell him that.”

“Yeon Hwa,” Wook says, but his words give way to silence. “I will not compromise that child’s happiness for your ambition.”

“Do not act so high and mighty, Wook-nim. There was a time when you would have done anything for the crown. You are no better than me, no matter how hard you try.”

Her brother looks at her and, for a moment, she sees her father—dark beard, calculating eyes, and tired—it’s the tilt of his head, the light through the trees.

She hears a noise, the sound of a horse braying, and she closes her eyes. Her son is meant to stay the entire day with her, but it was cut short too quickly by her own rage. She had hoped that they would stay longer, despite what she said.

“You put me here, Wook . . . I have to use what I can to get out.”

“I know,” Wook says gently and he bows to her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I am so sorry little sister.”

Her brother dies shortly afterward, and she is more alone than she ever has been.

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.

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**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry! I needed something to write while I work on my long-ass YoSoo fic that is a MONSTER time eater. Hope you enjoyed and will review. This is the first thing I have posted in a while, and one of quite a few that I worked on for the Scarlet Heart fandom.
> 
> So timeline, Hae Soo is about 35-36 when she dies. 
> 
> Myeong Hui as I researched at the time (months ago) can be another form of Myung, like Myung Hee. And I named their daughter after Court Lady Oh, Soo Yeon.


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